


(use me like a) controller

by spock



Category: The Ritual (2017)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Codependency, Crueltide, Ex Sex, Friends With Benefits, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Missing Scene, Non-Linear Narrative, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Personality Disorders, Pre-Canon, Relationship Study, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21813619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spock/pseuds/spock
Summary: Hutch has kids. A job, friends — and not just the fucking lads, either. He's got his brother, who is even more bent than he is, and all their family back in Manchester that love them to bits, even the ones that do daft shit like vote Leave. Hutch has a whole complicated mess of a life that he manages just fine.But he also has Luke. And there's only ever been one way this thing has shaken out.
Relationships: Hutch/Luke (The Ritual)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 40
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	(use me like a) controller

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Black_piano_keys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_piano_keys/gifts).



James from work is a bit of a laugh. He's tall and blond, which has always been the type Hutch has gone for. He laughs himself silly at just about everything that comes from Hutch‘s mouth, as good a sign as any that the interest is mutual.

They go out for drinks after work. It's a loud sort of place that he wouldn't bother with if it'd been him and the lads, but it suits the evening well enough for what he has planned with James, the two of them leaning into the other's space to be heard over the music and all the other conversations being shouted above it.

Hutch's fingers trace the edge of his mobile for most of the night mindlessly, worrying at the slight dent on the corner from when he'd dropped the damn thing near up ’round high street the last time he and Luke had a two-man lad's night.

Fingers settle on top of his own. "What are you thinking about?"

He winces. "Sorry," Hutch says. "Friend of mine hasn't been returning my calls. Guess I'm worried about him. Had a mate pass away about a month ago and it's thrown us all right out of sorts, I suppose."

Sympathy spreads across James's handsome face. One of his big hands settles high on Hutch's thigh, squeezing gently. Hutch has to work to bite back his surprise. He hadn't meant to use it for that, but he can't say he doesn't appreciate the results.

Rob always was an excellent wingman.

* * *

The line rings a few times before switching over to voicemail, a robotic voice on the other end telling him that the mailbox is full and to try again later.

"What a twat." Hutch hangs up and frowns at the screen. "Who's even got a full inbox these days?"

His youngest kicks him from where she's sat across from him at the table. "Probably full-up from all the times you've called him, ay, da?"

Hutch makes a face at her. "Yes, alright," he says. "Message received: focus on you, I've got it. Tell me all about your boring exams, then."

* * *

After things had gone tits-up with Catherine, Hutch had stayed with Luke for a while as he looked for a flat of his own. Rob hadn't been shy in voicing his disapproval, but Luke was the only one of them living on his own without someone to complain about Hutch lounging about all day, and that had settled that.

Luke hadn't asked for the key back, and Hutch hadn't ever thought to hand it over.

He lets himself into Luke's after a solid two weeks of radio silence. Luke's bandished the mother-hen label at Hutch enough times that it's officially his own damn fault if he didn't see Hutch inviting himself over as the inevitable conclusion to this particular saga.

"Alright Lukey," he calls, peering into the house. "Put your dick away, there's company in." He doesn't get a response. Hutch tells himself he isn't worried and closes the door behind him, going into the sitting room.

It's a mess, tables turned over, chair tipped onto its side. From what he can tell, the kitchen seems alright, the worst of the damage being a pile of dishes in the sink that is likely in desperate need of washing up. Only a minor tantrum then.

Or so he hopes.

Hutch swallows and heads for Luke's bedroom.

Luke's spread out on his stomach across the mattress. He doesn't look like he's done himself in, as far as Hutch can tell, but that isn't saying much. "Christ alive."

Hutch sits on the edge of the bed near where Luke's head is. Luke's groan is mostly swallowed up by the mattress, face mashed into it like it is, but Hutch can hear it, and it gives him reason to sign in relief.

"So this is what's got all your attention these days is it?" He places a hand on the back of Luke's neck, tacky with sweat. "Too busy drinking yourself stupid all on your lonesome to answer my calls? Jesus mate, you fucking stink."

Luke's head turns to the side so that it's just one of his cheeks pressed against the bed. The eye not mashed into the duvet cracks open, squinting at Hutch in the darkness. "Fuck off."

He smiles. "Well, that's something." He stands up and then grabs Luke's shoulder, his other hand taking hold of Luke's arm. "Still got that winning personality, haven't we? Not all hope lost.”

It takes a minute, but Hutch manages to get Luke off the bed, the majority of his weight shifted onto Hutch's shoulders.

"The fuck are you even doing here?"

Hutch has to focus on his steps, carefully navigating them towards Luke's en suite while dodging all the potential hazards littering the floor. "Got dumped today because of you, how’d'you reckon that?" Luke isn't any help at all, stumbling every few steps, nearly taking the both of them down a good nine times. "Had a fit lad eating out the palm of my hand and what did I do? Spent all my time preoccupied with if you'd finally gone and killed yourself while I wasn’t looking. Got told to fuck off and do one."

They make it to the bathroom and Hutch has to paw at the wall to get the overhead light switched on. Luke hisses; Hutch supposes that it serves the bastard right.

"Can you stand on your own?"

Luke nods. Hutch is dubious, but leaves him to clutch at the frame of the door anyway.

Hutch goes to the bath and twists the faucet until it's near-scalding, then flips the stopper so that the shower comes on. He turns, pushing his sleeves up his arms. "Alright, let's—"

Luke's standing there starkers, his clothes kicked off into the corner of the room. His expression is open, and now that he's seen Luke in the light, Hutch can tell that he must've spent the better part of the day crying.

"Hutch," Luke says, and Hutch picks up on his tone right-quick.

"Oh mate, let's not and say we did, ay?" He bridges the space between them and takes a firm hold of Luke's bicep, pulling him towards the tub. "You rinse off and I'll work on making you your tea, how's that sound?”

Luke is pressed close to his side. "Hutch," he says again, close enough that his lips catch on the beard Hutch is sporting as he says Hutch's name.

"Fucking —" Hutch bites his lip. He has to admit that he knew this was where it was going to end up, if only to himself, doesn't he? That's the healthy thing, or so they say.

He’s tried therapy exactly twice in his life: the first time, back in uni; and the second, after he and Catherine had called it quits. Both times he’d been given what amounted to the same advice, and both times had seen him disregard that advice like it was rot.

It's why he waited a week and a half to come by, and why he finally caved once James had given him the boot. Cheating has never sat right with him, though he and Luke have been known to overlap their whatever-this-is with a partner or two when the timing was particularly inconvenient.

Rob used to tell him that he needed to shit or get off the pot. He was always good at trying to be objective about it, but Hutch knew where Rob stood on the matter.

Hutch's nose grazes Luke's cheek. His usual stubble has turned into a beard outright, patchy as it is. "You look like a fuckin' rough sleeper, mate." He licks his lips. "Not sure even I'd want you, right state you are."

A wounded sound catches in Luke's throat, his eyes watering.

"Oh," Hutch fucking hates himself for a moment. Hates Luke. "Fuck it," he says in the end, stepping forward and bringing his lips to Luke's own.

* * *

“I haven’t got shit to say to him,” Dom says, sneering outright. “Just let him lock himself away.”

Hutch sighs. “Alright, yes, thank you, Dom, very helpful mate, really.”

They’re at a fucking wine bar and Dom’s moved in for the kill before the drinks have breathed enough for them to have even had a taste.

“And don’t you think for a second that I don’t see you using this as an excuse to start all that shit up again,” Dom adds.

Phil’s face goes red. Hutch had been the last of them to turn up, his bus falling behind schedule, and he has three guesses as to what they’d been gossiping over as they waited. “I haven’t even taken a bite of the fucking cheese yet, Dom!”

“Alright, lads,” Phil mutters. “Let’s not.”

But Dom’s on a tear, and there’s no stopping him. Hutch is glad in as much that Dom's keeping his volume low enough that they shouldn’t get tossed out. The last thing they need is their name on another barred registry.

“You know Rob fucking hated it, right? Each time, you could see it eating him up inside. Never saw him as happy as when you had those kids, life fucking sorted for once. The only reason he even agreed to go into that fucking off-license was because we’d all seen the looks Luke kept giving you that night. ”

“Dom, seriously, fucking shut it.”

Hutch waves Phil off. “Yes, Dom, I do know. Got the t-shirt as a souvenir and everything. You aren’t so clever that you’ve unearthed all my fucking issues while I’m in the dark, alright?” He rubs a hand over his head a few times. “I’m seeing a bloke from work, if you must know, since we’re apparently obsessed with who I’m fucking.”

Phil, bless him, looks genuinely pleased. And more than a little relieved, but Hutch knows well enough to politely ignore that Phil hasn't ever been able to manage to masking that particular reaction. “Really? That’s great Hutch, truly.”

“Ta,” he says, and then looks back at Dom. “Call me crazy, but the lot of us dropping like flies isn’t my idea of a good shout. But how about this, Dom: you try to self-harm and I’ll make sure to keep my hands out of it, alright? Cheers, mate.” He stuffs a piece of cheese into his mouth, a little pissed off at how good it tastes. Phil always did manage to find prime locations without annoying geezers. “Fuck me, that's good. Now drink your fucking wine.”

* * *

Rob shared a tutorial with Luke, and had thought he was a right laugh. It'd been he that introduced the two of them during Hutch's first year.

“You’ll get on with him, Hutch,” Rob had said. “You two are warped!”

And hadn't that just been the crux of it.

There was something off about Luke, that’d been obvious from the go. He was smart — too smart for his own good, most likely. He was clearly sensitive though, in the sort of way that Hutch liked.

Dom, always one to get to the heart of it, had clocked Luke as broken from a mile off.

And Luke was, but there wasn’t anything wrong with that. He was reckless, but they all had been back then. He liked to drink, and who didn't but Luke didn’t often keep track of where he ended up. He was good at school, but only as much as he could be bothered to remember to show up. He was used to being alone, but that was only because he hadn’t ever really had anybody in his life that looked out for him. All he needed was some looking after.

And that was where the lads came in.

Where Hutch came in.

* * *

Luke’s shower has more than enough room for the both of them. Hutch gets them down onto their knees so that they don't keel over and die embarrassingly from head trauma, accepting Luke’s kisses as gently as he can without encouraging more.

He says Luke’s name, trying to twist his face away. Luke’s hands come up, gripping at his jaw, forcing Hutch to look back at him. “Luke, mate,” he tries again, “Let me clean you up, yeah? I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s scary, the empty look in Luke’s eyes. Hutch grabs a bottle from the edge of the tub and squeezes some out onto his palm, rubbing it into a foam with his fingers. He scrubs at Luke’s body, his shoulders, under his arms, down the length of his back. Hutch is gentle when he grabs the length of Luke’s semi-erect cock, soaping up his pubic hair, the line of his groin. Water rains down on them from overhead, washing everything away.

Hutch washes Luke’s hair, and tries not to let himself get drawn into the way Luke’s eyes flutter shut, Luke leaning into his touch. Luke’s mouth drops open, lips parted, and Hutch feels himself starting to get hard. His cock thickening along his thigh, until it's bobbing between them.

Luke’s eyes open. “Hutch,” he says again.

* * *

Before he’d left for uni, Hutch had begged off a going-away do his mates were having and finally got the courage to have a big to-do on his own over on Canal Street. It’d been how he’d lost his gay virginity.

He’d told this to Phil, who he’d met at a pub before the term had even started. Phil had tried to chat him up. They’d kissed a bit right away, to test the waters, before they’d even tried talking to one another.

He also mentioned Rob, who had been a year above Hutch back when they’d been in sixth form. Their mothers had realized that Hutch would be attending to the same university that Rob was at and made a production over Rob needing to look out for Hutch, all on his own, away from his annoying family.

A ridiculous notion. Except for all the ways Rob did try.

So Hutch had brought Phil along on his second get-together with Rob, and Phil had invited along Dom, his mate. When they'd shown up at the pub, Rob had mentioned that he'd told Luke to tag along if he felt up to it, but he didn't expect that Luke would, already catching on that Luke was a bit of a flake.

But he had.

And the rest was history.

* * *

There’s something almost spiritual about how Hutch feels when he’s got his face buried in Luke’s ass. He used to joke about it, braggingly, back during the brief period when Luke and he considered what they did dating, and the even shorter period of which wheen the lads hadn’t had an issue with their being together.

Luke surrenders himself, pushing back against Hutch’s tongue. Hutch can hear him crying over the sound of the water, but it isn’t sad. Catharsis, one of the therapists had explained to him, once upon a time.

It’d made Hutch feel proud, that he could give this to Luke. How could it be bad, to get pleasure out of serving another? That he felt more contentment making sure that Luke was taken care of than he ever did in sorting himself out?

* * *

They lasted about a term, and broke up and got back together a good seven times during it.

Hutch was miserable even when they were together, but being apart was so much worse. Having Luke meant having a way to be happy; it wasn’t a sure thing, but nobody knew how to manage Luke like Hutch did, and the times when he succeeded were bliss unlike any he’d ever known.

Drugs couldn’t compare, though lord knows the both of them had tried that road.

Hutch could see how it ate Luke up inside, the days when he was inside his own head too much to meet Hutch halfway.

It’d been Hutch that signed them up to speak to a counselor. They’d been a pair, in the end. Hutch appeasing, and Luke tempestuous: two sides of the same disorder that made them the worst sort of feedback loop. It made a sick sort of sense. Soulmates, two halves of the same cracked bastard.

He’d told Rob, because of course he had, and Rob agreed to keep it to himself. It was for Luke’s benefit that Hutch stay away from him, and Hutch quite literally didn’t have the self-control to stick to it, so that was where Rob came in.

It never lasted. Luke loved him, in his own way, and it ate him up to see Hutch with other people, and it ate Hutch up to see Luke upset at all.

Friends, though, with clear lines, that was manageable. Better yet, most of the time, it worked. For the times where it didn’t, well, Rob was there to help to keep them within the lines.

* * *

He leaves Luke in the bathroom to shave, threatening to get himself done up on a GBH charge if Luke doesn’t shave off that mangey beard of his.

Hutch knows where all the spare linens are kept, and he changes the sheets on the bed, tidying up the room and considering it a good sign that Luke’s moved on to cleaning his teeth without needing to be told.

Luke turns off the light when he steps out of the bathroom, nothing but the full monty on him. Luke can bandy about his cock all he likes; Hutch is pushing 40 and his body is well aware of it, and he didn’t get the symptom that has him horny as all get-out for no reason at all. Hutch has a borrowed pair of Luke’s pants cradling his more tender bits beneath the covers and they aren't coming off for the rest of the night.

Hutch reaches over from his side of the bed to switch on the lamp, watching Luke as he crosses the room and climbs into bed, looking far too comfortable for a man that's been a hermit for the better part of a month.

“You staying the night then?" Lukes sounds like himself again. He almost always does, once they start this back up again. "After all your bitching earlier?”

What an asshole. “I mean, I can go.” Hutch doesn't make any moves to leave, too comfortable himself.

Luke swats at him. “Well, you are already here.”

Hutch supposed he was.

He turns the light off and rolls onto his side, taking in Luke’s features in the dark.

Luke turns as well, so that they’re breathing into the shared space between their pillows. “You know what I’ve always thought?” he asks, though he doesn't wait for Hutch to give any kind of answer. “Who cares if that it's fucked up, if it’s the thing that keeps us both alive? I’ve never minded that we’ve only got one another.”

Hutch has kids. A job, friends — and not just the fucking lads, either. He's got his brother, who is even more bent than he is, and all their family back in Manchester that love them to bits, even the ones that do daft shit like vote Leave. Hutch has a whole complicated mess of a life that he manages just fine.

But he also has Luke. And there's only ever been one way this thing has shaken out.

“Me neither, mate,” Hutch says. “It's not so bad, is it?”

“Not at all.” Luke’s hand comes up between them, stroking his knuckles angst the grain of Hutch’s beard. “So I’ve been thinking. What do you say we do the trip just us this year?”

**Author's Note:**

> And without Dom there, they stay on the actual fucking path and don't die, the end! 
> 
> Thank you to my beta. I hope that you like this recip! I loved all of your prompts and likes - they reminded me of why I so enjoyed this film. I felt like all the actors did such a great job of developing dynamics and histories that felt palpable.


End file.
